


Lending a Helping Hand

by SOMETHINREAL



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Canon Compliant, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, brian has a hyung kink, im not sorry, kinda dowoon centric, minor hyung kink, this sounds so dirty yikes, very slight dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:50:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMETHINREAL/pseuds/SOMETHINREAL
Summary: Dowoon thinks that it’s just about the most basic, unbelievable, stereotypical excuse that he’s given in his entire life.(alternatively: dowoon tells his hyungs he's sick so he can get off in peace. but that's not really a thing in the day6 household, is it?)





	Lending a Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> this is a mess and pretty dowoon centric honestly  
> (psst i have the fattest headcanon that dowoon is a sub top and brian is a power bottom but you didn't hear that from me)

Dowoon thinks that it’s just about the most basic, unbelievable, stereotypical excuse that he’s given in his entire life. _You four go without me_ , he’d said. _I’m not feeling well. I’m fine, yes, I just need to rest for a bit, hyungs. Go have fun._ They’d all bought it with some minor persuading (why would he have to lie about something like that, anyways?), and left Dowoon on his lonesome in order to cope with what they believed was general unwellness from their busy schedule.

And that’s part of it, sure. Hell, they’ve all been so tired recently with all of their scheduled shows and interviews and practices that as soon as they got back to their apartment, they were eating a quick meal and then off to bed. Once they got news of a day off, they’d been over the moon. And Dowoon is exhausted, of course he is, but there’s a bigger, more significant part that sort of overrules everything else.

Dowoon hasn’t been able to get of comfortably in months. What, with his busy schedule and hyungs that wouldn’t let him breathe without being within a ten foot radius of him, it’s easy to see why it’s been so difficult. And it isn’t like he hasn’t attempted it before, tried to sneak out from their movie nights and whatnot, but that’s always been suspicious, and he’s not allowed to shower for more than ten minutes, and while Brian may sleep like the dead, Jae would wake to a pin dropping. Getting off has been a no go for _months_.

So, when he hears about the fact that he’ll have a day alone, Dowoon is more than happy to pull a sickie. He kind of feels bad because now the rest of them probably think he’s not well and are going to worry about him, but what can Dowoon do? He’ll just play it off like all he needed was some Dayquil and a nap and everything will be fine. It’s almost embarrassing, though, the way he’d kicked out all of the others just so that he could jerk off in his room alone like a teenager. But Dowoon is a man. Men have _needs_ to attend to.

He jumps in the shower a bit after they leave (with them leaving also means quiet. Dowoon wants to relish in this while he still has it), because he hardly has any time for himself with five other men demanding the singular washroom they have. It gets really congested sometimes, so it feels nice that he can breathe without someone else in his space. And by breathe, he means stretch himself on three fingers just because he can, that is, after liberally washing himself with that milk and honey soap that Wonpil insists on making them buy (which they complain about, but always needs to be replaced every three weeks).

After his shower, he doesn’t dress himself fully, putting on nothing but a soft sweater that feels plush against his heated skin and hangs at the tops of his thighs. He figures that the least amount of clothing is probably better for what he’s about to do, but it’s kind of cold in the dorm, and he doesn’t fancy freezing his ass off from being naked, so the sweater seems the best option for him. Once he climbs to his bunk, makes himself comfortable, there isn’t much to it after that. He’s still hard from when he’d stretched in the shower, now all that’s left for him to do is to get to it. So he does. Dowoon grabs the lube he’s got stashed under his pillow pours some into his palm and spreads some onto his fingers, then sinks two into himself at the same time that he wraps a hand around his length. And everything is so good; heat prickles all over his skin and pools in spots it hasn’t is what feels like decades, everything feels on fire and it’s so fucking good that he doesn’t have to worry about waking anyone up or taking too long in the shower.

Dowoon bends his knees up to give him better access and _oh,_ that’s good, it feels so good; he lets out a small moan when he finds that spot. His head is hazy with arousal, senses cloudy with so much heat that he can hardly comprehend anything but his hand pumping himself and his fingers pressing into himself at the same pace. And Dowoon is already so close that it’s almost embarrassing, the fact that he’s teetering on the edge of orgasm just from a few fingers up his ass and a hand fisting his length, but it’s been so long that he can’t even remember the last time he came in peace.

“Oh,” comes a voice from the door. Dowoon’s hands pause. Fuck, fuck, fuck, they weren’t supposed to be back for at least a few hours, so what the fuck is this?

Apparently Dowoon being able to get off in peace is just about as rare as the rest of the band not acting like crackheads in this household. It’s Brian who’s at the door, he can tell from the voice that it’s Brian, and he wishes so badly that it was anyone _but_ Brian, whom Dowoon has not so shamefully thought about at times like this in the past, and Brian, who’s sometimes a pain in the ass but always ends up sticking out for him in the end; Brian fucking Younghyun Kang of all people. Why couldn’t it have been Wonpil? Or Sungjin? Hell, their fucking _manager_ walking in on Dowoon would have been better than this.

“I thought you weren’t feeling well, so I went to get your favourite soup,” Brian says. “But I guess that maybe that was unnecessary.” Dowoon lets out a shaky breath. “You seem to be doing fine,” he adds. Dowoon still hasn’t moved from his awkward position. He’s still got two fingers up his ass, still got a hand fisting his cock, which is currently leaking onto his stomach and he’s not sure how much Brian can see since Dowoon is in the top bunk but he can definitely see Brian and Brian is definitely staring. Dowoon is absolutely _not_ doing fine. It just _had_ to be Brian. He kind of wants to scream _GET THE FUCK OUT_ at the top of his lungs, but a) that’s a little rude and b) they’ve gotten far too many noise complaints already.

“Uh,” Dowoon says, because he cannot seem to think of anything intelligent to say while he’s been caught getting off by someone whom he’s thought of far too many times to be normal in the past. This is not Dowoon’s day. But Brian walks closer. Dowoon can see the bag in his hands that’s probably holding the soup he’d mentioned picking up, which is actually really, really sweet of him, and Dowoon is actually surprised that it was Brian and not Wonpil who barged in with food because this just seems out of Brian’s aura.

“Uh,” Brian echoes, “I guess I’ll just leave this on the floor here. I’m gonna leave so you can, um, you know.” He’s fucking looking and gesturing to where Dowoon’s touching himself, to where Dowoon still hasn’t removed his hands because at least they offer some kind of coverage, even though what he’s doing is clear. It doesn’t matter anyways. Dowoon’s dignity is in a shredded heap in the corner.

“No!” he says before he even realizes it. “Don’t go.” Dowoon doesn’t even know what he means by that. Can he not learn to shut the fuck up for once is his godforsaken life?

Brian gives a puzzled look. “Don’t go?” he asks. Dowoon wants to scream. Why is he such an idiot? Now he’s gone and made things even more awkward than they already were by asking Brian, his hyung, who definitely didn’t ask for any of this, to stay while Dowoon’s halfway through getting off with two fingers up his ass and a hand wrapped around his leaking length. Dowoon feels like he’s fallen straight (or perhaps, not quite so) out of a damn _porno_ , and he is _this_ close to spontaneously bursting into flames. “Do you want me to…” Brian trails off, clearly unsure of what he’s even implying. “Help you?” he finishes after a few moments, having made up his mind. Dowoon nearly chokes.

Yes. Totally. He definitely would not mind Brian, his undoubtedly attractive, strong, _bisexual_ hyung to get him off. The thought is like a fucking dream, honestly. Dowoon leaks precum onto his tummy where his sweater is pushed up just thinking about it.

“Yes. I mean sure. Please. Would you?” and it’s completely unintelligent and Dowoon is sure that he’s fifty shades of tomato red but Brian is too busy shrugging off his coat and climbing up to Dowoon’s bunk to notice. At least, if he does, he doesn’t make a point of bringing it up.  

There’s not really enough room for both of them (he and Wonpil might both fit when Wonpil decides that he wants to cuddle, but Brian is twice Wonpil’s size and broader than most of the band), hell, there’s hardly enough room for Dowoon alone to rest comfortably, but they make it work. Brian slides in behind Dowoon so that they’re back to chest. Brian is hesitant, and seems like he doesn’t know where to start, so he kisses Dowoon’s shoulder over the fabric of his sweater.

But maybe that’s a little weird and uncalled for so he says, “Are you sure you want me to--”

“Hyung,” Dowoon interrupts him, “please.” And that seems to be enough or Brian to gain the confidence he needs. His hands are gentle where they pull Dowoon’s hands away from himself and places them by Dowoon’s sides. He slicks up his hands in a liberal amount of lube (Dowoon had handed it to him with hands that shook. Brian took it with hands that didn’t), then sinks two fingers into Dowoon at the same time he wraps a hand around Dowoon’s length.

And fuck, it’s so much better than Dowoon could have ever imagined. Brian’s hands cause heat to pool all over his body, big and warm and calloused from years of playing the bass. He can’t really describe it, and it’s not that he’s never done this before because he has (girls, boys, some who were both and others who were neither; Dowoon is not picky), it just feels different. He’s not sure if it’s because it’s been so long or because he’s wanted this since he was a trainee, but something about the whole ordeal is so, so good that he can’t even put it into words. Dowoon tips his head back on Brian’s shoulder and lets out the softest sound; a bare breath of a moan.

“Is this why you wanted to stay home?” Brian asks, and Dowoon doesn’t think that it’s a serious question, because it isn’t accusatory, it’s almost _teasing_ , calling Dowoon out on his desperality. “So you could touch yourself like this?” He flicks his wrist particularly slow, crook his fingers so sweet; Dowoon gives another soft sound. Dowoon nods slowly against Brian’s shoulder. “Answer me, Dowoonie. Talk to hyung.” Fuck, if that’s not the hottest thing Dowoon has ever heard in his _life_.

“Yes, hyung,” he says quietly, even though he doesn’t trust his voice. Brian hums quietly and runs his thumb over the head just to watch Dowoon tremble.

“You’re so cute, Woonie,” Brian coos. Dowoon’s face burns. “You were that desperate that you had to send us all out, huh?” Dowoon nods again, and he thinks that it might be Brian’s thing to be talkative during this kind of thing. The thought has him leaking into Brian’s hand, because Brian is _good_ at it. To be entirely fair, though, it makes perfect sense. Brian doesn’t shut up regularly, so why would this be any different? “Hyung would’ve helped you out a while ago if he’d known that you’ve been so desperate.”

Dowoon’s face is on fire where he’s tucked it into the crook of Brian’s neck. He hates admitting that he likes it when Brian talks to him like this. He’s getting close; he can feel the heat coil in the pit of his stomach, and he can’t decide whether he wants to buck his hips up to meet Brian’s fist or press back so that he sinks down on Brian’s fingers, crooked just at the right angle to hit his spot. He settles eventually for both, the pleasure clouding his brain as he chases his orgasm.

“You’re still so desperate,” Brian points out. His voice is this quiet kind of rasp that Dowoon only hears when he wakes up but would kill to hear for the rest of his life. “Look at you,” he says. “You’re being so good for hyung. You really are so cute. Are you going to cum for me, Woonie?”

All Dowoon can do is nod before he spills over Brian’s fist, a soft, yet rough sound pressing past his lips as his back arches and his thighs shake with the force of his orgasm. Brian strokes him through it, only stops and pulls his hands away when Dowoon begins to tremble and whine from overstimulation.

They sit for a second, Dowoon needing to take a moment to catch his breath before the post-sex (post-handjob?) awkwardness settles in and Dowoon feels very exposed and is very aware that Brian’s hand is resting on his hip, the hand that’s covered in his _cum_. How the fuck are they going to talk this one through? Dowoon can also feel that Brian is sporting a semi against his back and he sort of wants to _really_ do something about it, but now he’s tired and hungry and that soup smells very good from where the scent is wafting up to his bed.

“So um,” Brian says after a second. “That was... interesting.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Dowoon responds, and it’s so awkward that he doesn’t want to turn and look at Brian. “We could do one of three things, hyung. One: you could leave and we can never talk about this again. Two: I could get you off and we can never talk about this again, or three: I can get you off, we can eat that soup and then we can maybe talk about this again because I admittedly enjoyed that more than I should have.”

“Three,” Brian says without skipping a beat. “I liked that too, I wouldn’t mind you getting me off, and also your favourite soup is also my favourite soup therefore I’m not turning that down.” Dowoon does turn around, and he reaches under his pillow for where he keeps a little packet of tissues, hands one to Brian, goes about cleaning himself off, then settles back into Brian’s lap.

He fumbles messily with the fly of Brian’s jeans for a bit, but once he gets those and the boxers off of Brian, leaving him in just his hoodie, and wraps a hand around him, hearing the soft sound from the back of his throat, he thinks that he’s glad that the world decided to fuck with him today.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](http://twitter.com/hfkyounghyun)


End file.
